


"Tell Me"

by SithHappens



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Feels, Hair Pulling, Smut, a bit of roughness, feelsy smuts, wrists bound with rope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 06:22:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15528054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SithHappens/pseuds/SithHappens
Summary: You tell Ivar you love him.  He needs to hear it again.





	"Tell Me"

The first time you tell Ivar, it’s spur of the moment.  You find him sitting at the desk in his study, poring over some business paperwork or other with an annoyed look on his face.  You might ask him about it later, but at the moment you’re heading out and only mean to tell him goodbye.

 

“Hey, Ivar,” you start easily enough, but when he looks up, the annoyance on his face melting into something softer, curious and attentive, it hits you.  Like a punch to the chest. The beautiful features that bely the beast in him, the tenderness he shows you despite the savagery you know beats in his veins… It hits you and you stare at him a long moment, just taking him in, trying to breathe again.

 

Long enough, his expression turns to that of concern.  “Yes? What is it?”

 

“I love you,” you reply without hesitation.  A warm smile spreading your lips even as you notice his eyes widen slightly.  “And I’m running down to the store for a bit. Text me if you need anything.”

 

With that, you drop a quick kiss to his temple, not minding that he doesn’t return the affectionate gesture, nor the words you’ve spoken.  You’re confident enough in your stance and his that it doesn’t trouble you at all. Instead, you go about the shopping, and the rest of your day, as you intended and think very little about it.

 

The next time you say it, it’s at Ivar’s request.  Demand, really. He has you on your stomach, sunk in the plush sheets of his king-size bed.  You’re restrained to his headboard, wrists bound with soft and sturdy rope, his meticulous care in the knotwork speaking to you as much as any words might.  He fucks you from behind, a grunting, groaning animal leaning over you. One hand on your canted hips as he slams his thick cock into the deepest parts of you.  Owning you and the quiver in your thighs and the flutter in your belly that has you teetering on the edge of orgasm, waiting for him to push you over with his rough thrusts.

 

By the time his fingers weave into your hair, lifting and twisting your head from the pillows with a sharp yank, you’re prepared for all manner of filth to come pouring from his wicked mouth as you have become so accustomed to.  That’s why it confuses you when the only words he rasps out are “Tell me.”

 

His hips stop moving, pressing into you, and you nearly cry out at the loss of friction, managing to shake your head slightly against the iron grip in your hair.  Ivar drapes himself over you, resting on a forearm as he breathes hot in your ear. “What you said in the study. Tell. Me.”

 

Another vicious tug makes your cunt throb and clench around his cock, drawing a quiet grunt from him.  But it brings your focus back, as no doubt intended. You know what he wants and it only makes you quake beneath him.

 

“I…” you croak out from a dry throat.  His fist tightens in your hair when you lick your lips.  “I love you…”

 

The rush of his breath deafens you a moment as his fingers slip from your locks.  The sound turns into a low growl, hand slipping between you and the bedsheets while his hips quickly resume their brutal pace.  In the moment his clever fingertips find your clit, he husks “Again.”

 

“Ivar,” you sob out, back arching violently, trying to grind yourself between his touch and his jarring thrusts.  It makes you breathless already, rapidly approaching that edge once more with no way to stop as you writhe and keen for him.  “Ivar! I love you. I love you… _AH_!”

 

“ _Fuck_ …” you hear him groan out just as your senses explode, your body overtaken with pleasure.  Feel his pace falter in a stutter of hips, then the heavy twitch of his cock spilling hot inside you, dragging out your own release.

 

It’s several thudding heartbeats before you become aware of much of anything besides the delicious throb between your legs, still stretched around him.  No doubt to be sore in the morning. Your shoulders ache some, wrists chafed from your thrashing; wetness staining your eyelashes and cheeks; waning pleasure still trembling through your muscles.  But most of all, there’s Ivar, the weight of his hot skin welcome against your own. His loose hair tickling the sensitive skin of your back, forehead resting between your shoulder blades as he catches his breath.

 

You know he will stir from this relaxed position in a moment or two.  Remove your restraints and soothe his mouth tenderly over all the strained and aching parts of you.  Will smear the wetness from your face as he nuzzles and tend to you in the ways he knows you need so intimately well.  Ways he takes such pride in, and you suspect he may need, too.

 

But now, Ivar sends a shiver up your spine with a lazy kiss below your nape.  Then, with quiet, fragile words you wonder if you were even meant to hear, he melts you completely.

 

“And I love you…”


End file.
